Charlie
by JPLE
Summary: Vers Libre, Bellatrix on powdered lust. Adapted from another chapter story of mine. M for blatant drug use and sexual references which are thinly veiled.


I hate Vers Libre. But I do it because I can.  
>Charlie? Well you can google it.<p>

* * *

><p>Bring your love baby I could bring my shame,<br>bring the drugs baby I could bring my pain.  
>I've got my heart right here,<br>I've got my scars right here.

* * *

><p>He doesn't love her.<br>He doesn't love her,  
>and that's evident.<p>

She doesn't want love.  
>She doesn't want love,<br>because all she knows is hate and lust,  
>and love is so far from her.<p>

All she needs is strong arms,  
>someone to take control<br>just for once.

She's crazy,  
>always been crazy,<br>always been out of control.

(So sometimes foreign concepts like control are _better than okay_)

It's another anomaly.  
>Another anomaly to be this far in lust<br>that she loses herself.

Loses herself like she's lost so many others  
>in the folds of her sheets,<br>in the expanse of her mind;  
>forgotten.<p>

It's so beautiful  
>and Bella doesn't know beautiful.<br>Not real beauty.

(Desirability and beauty are so _different_ when it comes to girls like her).

She's a beauty,  
>beautiful.<br>Yes, anyone could tell you  
>she's beautiful.<p>

Of course she's beautiful  
>in an ugly sort of way.<br>Ugly heart, ugly soul,  
>enticing mouth.<p>

(You should hear the things said about those lips).

But he's just as bloody.  
>Red and tainted and imperfect.<br>Bloody.

And of course she needed to be different,  
>to prove that superficially,<br>she could have beauty too.

(And in that way, she and Cissy are _exactly_ alike).

Black women lust tangibly,  
>physically,<br>oh so ridiculously.

Black women don't have tender touches  
>it's rough,<br>it's rough and hungry.  
>She's ravenous<br>and he is devoured.

Slowly at first,  
>like it's simply a test.<br>To tease and test and then relent  
>into pleasure.<p>

Dipping into it,  
>lower, <strong>lower<strong>, lower,  
>touching it with her face,<br>tongue lapping, nose twitching  
>breathing.<p>

Faster later,  
>building and building<br>and **fucking building**  
>until he simply can't take it<br>and disappears.  
>Simply disappears.<p>

She thinks he's weak  
>she could hold and hold and<strong> hold<strong> out  
>just to prove that she's strong.<p>

(**Nothing **is as important as being strong).  
>But he's different.<p>

He's all white and powdery  
>and physically, that's no shock.<br>But he's beneath that too,  
>deep within,<br>just like her.  
>He's no doll she's created,<br>no innocent she's corrupted.  
>He's that all on his own.<p>

He's just as dangerous,  
>a <strong>fucking<strong> race-car  
>going a thousand miles an hour<br>in the wrong lane.

A space ship,  
>headed on a collision course with mars.<p>

She loves it.  
>She loves it,<br>_god_,  
>she does.<p>

And that's where she's falling faster.  
>Faster and faster into lust.<p>

(Or is it?)

Because she's never seen him.  
>Never seen him,<br>for what he really is  
>before.<p>

Not like this,  
>not like the tiger who can match her,<br>a psychotic  
>mind, all on his own.<p>

She's not looking for love.  
>She <strong>swears<strong> she's not looking for love.  
>She's in lust.<br>She **swears **she's in lust.

No one can crazy her like this  
>no one can make her lose control –<br>and _oh god what was that?_  
>She's completely in control of the situation<br>in as much control as she has ever been.

Losing her mind perhaps,  
>if it were not that she had<br>already lost it.

(Lost it, but never in the name of love).

She's always used these boys  
>for pleasure.<br>But pleasures like this?  
>Has she ever known it?<br>She would love to answer  
>herself<br>properly.

The only words coming out of her mouth  
>well, they aren't words.<br>There's no sentences,  
>or phrases,<br>or even colloquialisms with no real structure.  
>They're just incomprehensible.<br>**Incomprehensible**  
>murmers.<p>

Lust,  
>love,<br>loveliness.

Hands,  
>hands so rough and crude.<br>Hands she used to lust after but cannot any longer  
>take him away from her.<p>

And It's painful to think of it,  
>giving him up<br>even for a second.

And she hands Charlie to Rodolphus.

* * *

><p><strong>The Weeknd - Wicked Games<strong>


End file.
